The Mind Reader
by catherinescharacters
Summary: Roswell AU: In addition to his many other gifts, Max has always had the ability to read minds. When the girl he has always watched from afar learns that he is not human, his life will never be the same.
1. Chapter 1

_I wonder what's for lunch today._

 _The kids probably aren't even paying attention._

 _James just passed a note to Leslie. I have to tell Emily._

 _I wonder if this is going to be on the exam._

Max had heard the thoughts of the people around him for as long as he could remember. He supposed it was because he was a healer – after all, neither Isabel nor Michael had the ability to hear thoughts.

In recent years, Max had learned to refine his ability. When he was younger, the thoughts at times would overwhelm him, forcing him to remain at home for days at a time. He would find himself in a sea of incomprehensible images and phrases in which he would lose his own essence until his mental barriers would suddenly reappear, allowing him to once again recover himself. For the first couple years of his time on Earth, his parents always fussed over him as a result of these episodes. They took him to doctors who could not diagnose him, and they sought ways to keep the episodes from occurring.

Max's first breakthrough came when he realized when he was about nine years old that he could explore his own mind when closing his eyes, allowing him to build mental barriers that would allow in more or less information based on their size. While at first this practice required an hour or so to complete, Max gained the ability over time to change the shape and size of the walls in just the span of a blink. Instead of simply allowing others' thoughts to increase or decrease in volume, Max could allow in certain individuals' thoughts and not others' or capture more information from certain individuals while only letting in the most superficial thoughts from others.

Max found he rarely needed to dig below the superficial level. After all, most people's passing thoughts included everything he needed to know. However, it helped to be able to dig deeper if someone seemed to be lying to him or if he wished to capture images in addition to words from others' minds.

 _MAX._

Max looked up quickly, startled. Was there a fire? A gun?

Max looked to his sister Isabel, the source of the mental shout. He quickly checked her for physical injuries. Finding no external causes for alarm, he let in her thoughts, wondering why she used a mental shout to break into his thoughts.

 _Mr. Jackson asked you a question,_ she thought pointedly, raising her right eyebrow knowingly, _The answer is The Civil War_.

Max looked up at Mr. Jackson, finding his eyes already on him.

"The Civil War?" Max asked quickly, hoping not too much time had passed since Mr. Jackson asked the question.

"Yes," Mr. Jackson said, turning back to the chalkboard, "The Civil War."

As Mr. Jackson continued with his lecture, Max looked back over to Isabel, giving her a quick nod in thanks.

 _You're welcome,_ she thought. _You know, you really should pay attention, though. Our exam is next week._

Max let out a soft chuckle, knowing that his lack of attention was not the wisest choice. Yet, he also knew Isabel would let him know if his attention was needed. Michael and Isabel had both learned over time how to deal with his telepathic abilities. They had both learned how to directly aim some of their thoughts towards him as well as shield some of their thoughts from him – a learned ability which he understood the necessity for. Max always tried to be aware of individuals' privacy, but in the times when he was more open to others' thoughts, it was easier to capture sensitive information from people who were not aware that they should attempt to shield their thoughts.

Similarly, Max and Michael had learned some ways to respond to Isabel's gift. She had always been sensitive to others' emotions. Max had seen images in her mind of the way she saw people's auras around them colored with their moods. As she grew up and her ability matured, Isabel gained the ability to alter others' emotions. She described it as painting a new color on their auras, but she had to be careful of the speed and extent to which she applied the change. When she made too extreme of a change, individuals began acting crazy, dangerous, or just plain weird. When she changed the emotions too fast, the change was apparent to both the individual and those around him or her. They began asking questions, wondering how or why their moods switched. Oftentimes, they began worrying that they had some kind of a disorder as generally "an alien did it" was not the first response to changing moods.

Michael, on the other hand, had a greater power over objects than both Max and Isabel. While all three could change the molecular structures of materials, Michael could do so without touching the items. Additionally, he could sense the presence of objects without seeing them. While at a young age Michael often used his ability for pranks, leading to unexplained physical changes that Isabel would have to control the curiosity of onlookers about, Michael had learned the importance of subtlety as he matured. While he still enjoyed his pranks, he now messed with lockers and showerheads instead of erasers and chalk – leading to people coming up with reasonable alternative causes.

As the bell rang for lunch, Max searched for her voice in the school. While he knew her schedule and could practically pinpoint her location at any point, Max knew that her time in class would be spent thinking about algebra, history, or science depending on what class she was in. Yet, during lunch, her thoughts were freer.

Max stood and headed towards the door, wading through both the physical bodies of the other students heading towards the cafeteria and the busy thoughts of his classmates while he mentally sought out her voice.

He felt Isabel beside him as he stepped up to his locker. He was surprised he hadn't heard the voice he was looking for yet. Her Spanish class had just let out; yet, she didn't appear to be near the classroom or her locker. He shut his locker, frustrated.

He turned towards the cafeteria and immediately ran into someone walking in the opposite direction.

"Sorry," he heard a soft voice say quickly.

Hearing the voice he had been looking for – albeit mentally and not actually audibly – Max looked down quickly and found himself staring into chocolate brown eyes.

It was her. Liz.


	2. Chapter 2

_Max_.

Max heard his name clearly in her mind as she looked up at him.

"Sorry," she said again.

"No problem," he said when he regained his ability to speak.

When she had run into him, he naturally grabbed her upper arms to steady her. She blinked a couple times and looked down while taking a step backwards as Max dropped his hands to his sides.

"I guess I should look where I'm going," Liz said, returning her eyes to his and giving him a soft smile.

"Don't worry about it," Max replied.

"Well, see you later," Liz said as she started to move past him to continue her way down the hall.

"Bye," Max responded softly.

 _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid,_ Max heard Liz repeat in her mind as she walked away. He smiled.

 _Adorable_ , he thought.

"Ugh," Isabel grunted next to him, "You two should just get a room."

 _Your auras are practically already having at it_ , she added mentally.

Max knew she didn't mean it. The two of them both knew nothing could happen between Liz and him. He was an alien, and keeping the secret came before everything else. Their secret came at the cost of keeping everyone else at an arm's length, but at least they weren't being experimented on.

The rest of the school day largely passed in a blur. Max, Michael, and Isabel ate lunch together as they always did, and Max passed through his classes listening to others' thoughts more or less depending on how interesting the topics and the teachers were that day.

After school, the trio headed to their normal spot, the Crashdown Café. There was an alien convention in town, meaning that the restaurant was busier than usual. Max quickly spotted Liz and zeroed in on her thoughts.

 _Will Smith, no mustard. Sigourney Weaver._

She took the order to the kitchen. Max, Michael, and Isabel made their way to their normal booth. They all quickly looked at the menu, although they each probably could have recited the entire menu considering the number of times they had been here.

Maria, Liz's best friend, came to take their order. Unlike Liz's mind, which was calm and focused, Maria's thoughts bounced all over the place. They buzzed insistently against Max's mental barriers, and it had taken Max an especially long period of time to quiet them that much.

After Maria took their order and walked back towards the kitchen, Max returned his gaze and his thoughts to Liz. Yet, in the back of his mind he felt a hum grow louder.

"Max," Isabel said, suddenly insistent. Her eyes were focused on two men whose voices and thoughts were increasing in volume.

"Gun," Michael said suddenly as Max opened his thoughts to the two men across the café from them.

 _This is all his fault._

 _He's going to pay._

"Isabel, do something," Max whispered.

"I'm trying," Isabel responded.

The two men stood from the booth. They were shouting as one man pulled out the gun Michael had sensed. The two fought for control over the weapon. The barrel of the gun tilted to the side away from both men, and suddenly the sound of a shot rang through the small restaurant.

Max saw Liz fall to the ground out of the corner of his eye. He was faintly aware of the two men leaving the café as he started towards Liz. Michael stood up quickly and grabbed his arm.

"Max, what are you going to do?" Max heard Michael ask as his friend thought, _You can't. The bullet's inside her._

"Let go of me," Max said as he pulled away. He already knew she was shot. Liz's thoughts centered around her pain and confusion.

When Max reached Liz, he ripped open her dress to see the wound.

As he put his hand over the wound, he said, "You have to look at me."

While he could easily heal small injuries, he needed to connect with her to heal the damage he felt beneath his hand. Liz slowly opened her eyes, and Max allowed himself to be drawn into them and into her thoughts.

On some level, he felt the flesh knitting back together beneath his hand as he turned the bullet into blood, but the majority of his mind surrendered itself to her.

 _A little girl stood in a dress with pies on it. She was spinning around showing it to her friend. Liz's mom had bought the dress for her as a birthday present. The dress was red._

 _Blood red._

 _It hurt. What was happening?_

 _Little Liz looked up and saw a boy looking at her._

 _The boy was in front of her now. Max. She had bumped into him earlier today. She felt butterflies in her stomach when she had looked into his eyes._

 _Her stomach. It was warm where Max's hand touched her._

 _The boy was with his friends having just gotten off the school bus. She wanted to talk to him. She wondered if he liked her dress._

Max's mind returned to his own thoughts as he withdrew his hand from Liz's stomach and rebuilt his mental barriers. Liz looked up at him as he broke a bottle of ketchup against the ledge where it had been sitting. He spilled the ketchup across her stomach.

"You broke the bottle when you fell. You spilled ketchup on yourself. Don't say anything. Please," Max insisted hurriedly.

 _What-? How-? I don't-_

Liz's thoughts were uncharacteristically frazzled as Max headed for the door.

As he jumped in the car Michael and Isabel were already sitting in outside the café, Max could hear the judgmental thoughts of his sister and his best friend buzzing in the back of his mind.

"I know," Max said before either Michael or Isabel could chastise him. Max spared one last look at the café and Liz as the car sped away from the restaurant.

"I know."


	3. Chapter 3

"Max, what are we going to do?"

Max looked at Isabel, seeing her faint frown reflecting the worry in her mind. She was scared. The trio had never let anyone in on their secret, and none of them wanted to end up as lab rats.

"Obviously we have to get the hell out of here," Michael bit out.

Michael had already decided. He was adamant. His thoughts gave no sense of hesitation, but they did give clues about why he was so eager to leave.

 _I can finally be free from that bastard. We can live alone away from all of this. I refuse to live at the mercy of anyone._

"Michael, we can't. We will find another way," Max responded soothingly, but even as he did so, he laid a hand on Michael's shoulder in silent support of the pain behind his friend's thoughts. Max and Isabel had been lucky to be found by their parents in the desert, but Michael hadn't been so fortunate. After temporary placements in a number of foster homes, Michael ended up with an abusive father. Although Michael constantly tried to obscure thoughts about the man following nights when his foster father hit him, Isabel and Max always knew from the slip-ups in Michael's thoughts and mood what had happened.

Michael shrugged off Max's hand, resenting what he believed was Max's pity.

"There is no other choice, Max. We have to go. Let's meet tonight. 10:00. You two can pick me up."

As Isabel and Max looked at each other briefly in the rearview mirror, Max could see that Isabel's eyes now held both worry and exasperation. Since they were children, Michael had always responded to every problem with either his fists or his detailed plans about leaving Roswell. Nothing tied Michael to Roswell. It was different for Max and Isabel.

 _Max, we can't just leave our parents. I don't know what to do, though. Maybe Michael is right this time?_

Max shook his head subtly. He would figure this out.

"Michael. Give me a couple days. If there is a hint that things will go sideways, we can leave. Until then, just give me a chance to talk to her. We can sort this out without leaving the only home we've ever known," Max reasoned.

 _This isn't our home. It will never be our home_ , Michael thought, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing how the argument that would follow those statements would go as the trio had had it a number of times throughout the years. Max gave his friend a look to indicate that he had heard Michael's thoughts, but he didn't chastise him vocally as Michael hadn't actually said the words aloud. The two friends stared at each other for a few moments, waging a war of patience. Finally, Michael turned to look back through the windshield.

"Fine. You have two days. If things aren't sorted out by then – and I don't know how they could be – we are out of here," Michael said, his voice clearly expressing his anger.

"Deal. It will be figured out by then, though," Max responded.

* * *

Max heard the sounds of his family members moving around the house as he lay on his bed thinking about Liz. He had always wanted to talk with her and get to know her through conversation instead of just through hearing her thoughts. He had worried that this exact situation would arise, though, and he had formerly believed he could not tell her the truth.

After all, in addition to putting himself as well as Michael and Isabel in danger, telling Liz the truth would potentially put her at risk. People had always been curious about aliens, but it was not a friendly curiosity. They (correctly) tended to believe aliens had some superior technology or abilities. This thus provoked fear, which led humans to desire to study aliens like animals instead of treating extraterrestrials like other sentient beings. As such, if more people knew the secret, more people could be questioned or even tortured for information. Luckily, the trio had gone undetected so far, but they had been quite careful to avoid any sort of attention.

From all of the years Max had known Liz, though, he believed he could trust her. Liz was not generally revengeful, unpredictable, or nervous – three characteristics which would be dangerous to the aliens. Instead, she was logical and kind. Hopefully, she would at least give him a bit of time to explain before calling the police or posting something online.

What would he tell her, though? What _could_ he tell her?

He needed to give her enough information to keep her from sharing what had happened due to the terror of not knowing the whole story; however, he couldn't tell her everything. He couldn't jeopardize Isabel and Michael. He would have to be strategic. At least he would have to try to be despite the fact that he seemed to be incapable of reasoning when he was thinking about – not to mention actually talking to – Liz.

The first step would be to figure out what she knew, or what she thought she knew, at school tomorrow. He could go from there.

* * *

As soon as Max parked the car in the school parking lot, he immediately started searching for Liz.

He felt a hand on his arm just after he began, though, which pulled him back to the car.

"Sorry, I could tell you already started looking for Liz, but I just wanted to wish you luck today, Max. Let me know if I can do anything," Isabel said. She had a worried look in her eyes, but Max appreciated the optimistic words.

"Don't get us killed, Max," Michael uttered as he jumped out of the car and headed towards the school.

Isabel let out a sigh, gave Max one last look, and then followed Michael into the school.

Max instead remained in the car while he sought out Liz. The two would not share a class until third period when they would have biology together. He wanted to get a sense of her state of mind before then, though.

 _There._ Liz was already sitting in her history classroom even though the class would not start for another 15 minutes.

 _It's going to be ok. There has to be some logical explanation for this,_ Liz reasoned, _Magic powers aren't real. I just need to focus. History. Max. No. History._

Max was relieved that her thoughts seemed more organized than they were immediately following the incident, even if they were slightly more curious than he might like. He hoped the first two periods would pass quickly so that he could talk with her as soon as possible.

Max stepped out of the car and headed towards the school. Unlike Liz, though, he knew there was no way he could focus on schoolwork today.


End file.
